


Strings of Fate

by AsterIsBorn



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Music, Romance, Stucky - Freeform, Violins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 01:34:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18511231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsterIsBorn/pseuds/AsterIsBorn
Summary: Cynthia is a young woman searching to apprentice under a violin maker. She finds herself confused and attracted by two perspective choices: Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.





	Strings of Fate

Cynthia walked down the city sidewalk looking at her feet. This was her third pass around the block and she feared if she stalled any longer, people would start to notice. She stopped one building before her destination. Looking ahead, she noted the wooden violin affixed above the door. She took a deep breath and told herself, “You can do this.” Cynthia tugged on the sleeves of her blue blazer and straightened her black pants. She wondered if her outfit was too formal for the occasion but she knew she couldn’t put this off any longer. 

The knocker on the door faced her at eye-level. Its intricate metal design perfectly complemented the old wooden door. Designs had been carved in it years before, but time has caused them to fade. She took a deep breath and put on a smile, knocking on the door. She waited for a moment, rocking from her heels to her toes slowly. After a few seconds of no reply she tried again. She shook her head, “I don’t have time for this.” She opened the door.

The inside was dimmer than she expected, but the light through the windows hit the violins hanging on the walls with a shine. The glossy finish on the wood threw patterns around the room. “Hello?” She calls out timidly, knocking on the inside of the door. “Sorry for just coming in, but no one answered the door.” She entered further, a little off put by the silence. Walking along the wall, she got a close look at a violin. The back of it was adorned with concentric rings burnt in, almost as if it were a target for a bow and arrow. She looked around and realized all the hanging instruments had the same mark. Suddenly she heard a sound. A pulsing scrape over and over, coming from the back room. “Hello” she yelled out again, slowly walking towards the noise. 

When she entered the workroom she froze. There was a man hunched over sitting on a bench, running a blade over what would clearly become the neck of a violin. The muscles of his back pushed against his tight white T-shirt as he worked. His arms were tree trunks yet as he shaved this wood it was clear he was acting with care, a gentleness. Cynthia found herself stuck staring, unable to say a word. The man paused for a moment, leaned back and stretching his arms behind him. He rotated his torso, swinging from side to side. As he turned her way his eyes widened. He quickly stood up and approached her. Cynthia was average height but as this man stood, he towered above her. 

He wiped the wood shavings off his hands on to his thick black apron. Extending his massive arm out he said, “Hi I'm Steve. What can I do for ya?” His face immediately disarmed her. His smile was warm and his eyes showed an attention proving that he cared. 

She took his hand and reveled in the comfort of his strong grip. “Well I'm Cynthia, sir.”

Steve smiled wide, “No need for all that. My mom named me Steve for a reason.” He leaned back on his work table with his hand, scratching his beard slowly. “So you looking to buy a violin? I've got plenty of options. What's your wood style? I'm a mahogany man myself but to each their own.” 

Before she could say anything, he walked to the other side of the room and grabbed a violin that was sitting on a table. “Here try this.” 

She took it from him slowly, careful not to harm the instrument in any way. As she inspected it, she spoke aloud without noticing, “Wow this craftsmanship is incredible.” She ran her fingers along the strings. “These look in such good condition. It’s almost as if it has never been played.”

“It hasn’t,” he said. “I just strung it today. My most recent work. Good eye.”

Cynthia looked up alarmed. “Wait seriously? Shouldn’t you be the first one to play it?”

His face momentarily broke into a frown as he ran his hand through his long thick hair. “No I don’t do that stuff anymore. I leave the playing to people like you.” He reached behind himself and handed her a bow. Cynthia hesitantly took the bow and held the infant instrument to her neck. She slowly ran the bow along the strings, getting a feel for their give. Once she got a handle of it she broke into a song. It was melancholy and passionate. The sound echoed in the room bouncing off the tools and tables. Cynthia had her eyes closed, caught up in the music. After a few minutes she regained her senses and paused, looking at Steve. His eyes were already on hers. “You don’t have to stop. That was Dvorak, am I right?”

“I think I’ve played enough, but you’re the first person besides my violin teacher to ever recognize that piece.” She gently put the violin on the table.

“It is one of his lesser known works. Tell me about these lessons. Who do you study under?”

Cynthia’s eyes hit the ground. “Well I actually haven’t been able to afford lessons for the past few years.”

“That’s unforgivable. Your style so brilliantly blends formal technique and emotional resonance. I haven’t heard someone play that well in years.” He stands up straight and steps closer to her. “It would be my honor to teach you myself. Don’t worry about payment.”

Cynthia looked at him astounded. “Did I hear that right? I mean I’m not one to turn down a deal but that sounds too good to believe. Isn’t there something I can do in return? I insist.”

Steve scrunched his face thinking. Cynthia thought to herself that he wore that face well. “Well I have been thinking about hiring someone to help with customers and cleaning around here. How does that sound?”

“Funny enough, that’s part of why I came.” She straightened up, ready to pitch herself. “I didn’t want to buy a violin. I wanted to learn to make violins. Maybe if there’s time after all the cleaning and lessons, you could start to show me the ropes around here. I could be your apprentice!”

With the word ‘apprentice’ his face soured. “I- I’m sorry but I have to ask you to leave. I am very behind on my work.” He placed his hand on the small of her back, gently but firmly guiding her toward the exit. 

Cynthia pushed against him. “Wait, what happened? When should I come for my first lesson?”

For the first time since the start of their conversation, Steve could not get himself to meet her eyes. “I’m sorry but I don’t think that’s a good idea. I thought about it and I’m much too busy to take on a student. But please, keep on playing, lessons or no.”

Cynthia’s eyes started to fill with tears as she reached the door. She turned around and shoved him in the chest. “What is wrong with you? If you weren’t going to let me apprentice why did you lead me on like that?” He just stood there staring, taking the hit. “Fine, I don’t want to be at this shop anyway.” She ran out, slamming the heavy door behind her. 

Steve turned the lock right as she shut it and fell onto the seat behind him. He held his hands and breathed heavily. “I’m sorry I just can’t.”

***  
“Right? What’s up with this bullshit?” Cynthia said, throwing her phone onto the table. “I thought I had it too.” Her friend Jen sat across from her, nodding along. Their table was outside on a city sidewalk, their bodies partially covered by the awning of the cafe. As her phone hit the surface, a woman walking by with a stroller jumped.

A waiter approached their table, clasping their hands. “Now are you ready to order?”

Cynthia shot them a look. “Not right now, Becky.”

The waiter raised their eyes in concern. Jen reached out her hand to the waiter. “Sorry she’s having a bad day.” The waiter nodded and briskly walked away.

“Ugh, but I don’t know who he thinks he is. One second he’s praising me, the next he’s kicking me out.”

Jen’s eyes narrowed. “Who’s this man anyway? I know the shop but I’ve never seen him.” She leaned forward awaiting an answer.

Cynthia crossed her arms. “Oh I don’t know. He’s just this tall white boy.”

“Oh so he’s cute? Now I get what this is about.”

Cynthia’s face twitched. “I mean. He looked okay for an asshole.”

Jen sat back, taking a drink of the water in front of her. “That’s funny cause I’ve seen you mostly crushing on women these days.”

Cynthia sat up and clapped her hands. “Well first of all, men are trash, so jot that down. Case in point here.”

Jen nodded. “Where’s the lie? But if you’re still looking for a similar job, I think I know a place. There’s this shop a few blocks from that fuckboy, but I think they make cellos, not violins. I’m sure you’ll be able to talk your way in.”

“Yeah I need to get this money so I’ll give it a shot. This time I won’t be walked over. No more falling for insecure boys’ games.”

Cynthia got up and walks away confidently. Jen calls after her, “Cynthia we didn’t get food yet!”

She turns around and takes her seat again. “You right, you right.”

***  
Cynthia approached the shop fists clenched. She was determined to not back down and entered right away. The door was a thick metal and heavier than she expected. Above the frame was a metal cello sculpture welded on. She thought to herself how extra this all was. Is this what all instrument makers are like? After pulling a little too hard on the door she entered.

The building was cold and uninviting. Any other noise was drowned out by the sound of metal hitting metal. She couldn’t tell exactly what the sound was, or why it had any place in a cello maker’s workshop. She yelled out, “Hello?” After no response she waited until a momentary lessening of the metal sound. “Hello!” she yelled out again.

The sound stopped and after a few seconds a man entered the front room. He wore a white muscle tee and jeans. His face clearly hadn’t been shaved or tended to for the past few days. His hair was long and lay like a mop on his head. Despite all those things, Cynthia couldn’t help but him attractive. Still it wasn’t his hair or his muscles she noticed first. It was that his left arm was a prosthetic. She tried to not look too much but they both knew she was.

“What are you doing here? The store is closed.” He said gruffly.

“If it’s closed, why was the door open?” Cynthia replied with a smile.

“Look I’m busy working. I don’t have time to remember when or when not to lock the doors. Now if you’ll please leave.” He turned away from her.

She frowned. “Excuse me? I came here to talk to you.”

He turned back surprised, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame with a smirk. “Okay what do you have for me?”

Cynthia took a deep breath, “I want to be your apprentice.”

His eyes widened. “Oh, my apprentice? What makes you think you are capable of studying under me? What makes you think I even want an apprentice.”

“Look, I’m good at what I do and I can help out around here.” She eyed the trash strewn around the floor. “Also I can remember when to lock the door.”

“Oh so you’re a funny one? Okay.” He looks around the room. He walks over and picks up a metal cello. She couldn’t tell what type of metal it was, only that it was a matte black. “Show me what you can play.” He hands it to her. It feel much lighter than she expected in her hands. She noticed that the back was decorated with a red star. 

“Well actually… I don’t really play cello. I didn’t even know you could make them out of metal like this.”

He shook his head. “So you don’t play cello and clearly put no research into my shop before coming here. Is this a joke?”

Cynthia thought for a moment. “Well I may not be able to play cello but I can play the violin! And I’m sure I can learn. They both have strings.”

He is clearly amused. “Violin eh? Alright follow me.” He walked in the back room and she took her time following, stepping around all the papers and trash on the floor. By the time she got back there he was hunched over an old chest, rummaging through papers. From the bottom of the pile he pulled out a wooden violin. She looked around and realized it was the only wooden instrument in the shop. She also realized that was a terrible place to store a violin. He handed it to her and it felt comfortable against her palms. The woodwork was crisp yet rounded and loving. This instrument immediately comforted her. “Wow. This violin is beautiful. I can’t believe you made this.”

“I didn’t. Now grab a bow and play something for me.” He sat on the edge of a bench and waited, holding his head in his arm. She paused for a moment and broke into a piece. It was much harsher than the one she had played for Steve. Her bow bounced off the strings with a vibrancy. As she played the anger fell from her. The pieced ended with a legato phrase and as it ended, she sighed. He clapped slowly, “Not bad.” He sat up and pulled his hair back, using a hair tie to put it in a bun on the top of his head. She realized with his hair out of his face how striking his features were. He looked almost feral, like a wolf. He picked up a metal cello and bow and sat in ready position. She looked him over, especially eyeing his prosthetic hand at the top of the cello. She wondered how he could play with only one hand. He looked at her sternly. “Don’t worry about me. Just play it again.”

She nodded and began playing again, her eyes closed in concentration. After the first few notes she heard the cello come in under her. She hesitated at first but continued on. The two instruments harmonized beautifully. He underlayed her staccato playing with beautiful melodic lines. Then he jumped to the highest register a cello could play in, mirroring her smooth ending with a tight harmony just underneath. As they both ended silence filled the room.

Cynthia shook her head. “That. That was beautiful. I don’t know many people who know that Stravinsky piece. It’s one of his least known.”

He sat back, laying the cello gingerly on its side. “I don’t know it. I just listened to you. Sorry I’m a little rusty.”

“Wait are you serious? You did all that from only hearing it once? That’s incredible.”

A smile grew from the side of his mouth. “Music is all patterns. Once you can visualize it, it’s easy. But you weren’t so bad yourself. Nice range.”

Her face became warm. “Thank you. I mean I’m out of practice too really.” 

He got up and paced around the room, slowly and performatively. “Still, I don’t know if you’ve got the goods to be my apprentice. Why don’t you find a place where they make violins?”

“Well I went to this…” then cut herself off. She thought better of it. “No I wanted to work under you.”

“You don’t have to lie. It’s okay if I wasn’t your first stop. There are a lot of places like mine out there.”

Cynthia’s shoulders loosened. “Yeah I actually went to this guy named Steve, but he turned out to be a jerk. I was worried about coming here but you seem alright actually.”

When the name ‘Steve’ left her mouth, his body tensed without Cynthia noticing. “Hmm. Can’t say I know a Steve. Sorry to hear how he treated you. No one should be cast out like that. I would love for you to be my apprentice.”

Cynthia put her hands to her cheeks. “This is incredible, thank you! I’ll come by first thing Monday. Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re so kind Mr… Wait I realized we never introduced ourselves. I’m Cynthia.”

He smirked and extended his arm for a handshake. Their hands met and he held her hand longer than expected. He put his other hand, the prosthetic, over hers. The prosthetic was warmer and comfortable to the touch. “I’m Bucky. See you Monday.”

***  
She left the shop elated. She immediately ripped her phone out of her pocket and went to her contacts. The waiting tone rang by her ear as she walked down the road. “Hey Jen. Guess what? I got it!” The sun was starting to set as she got closer to her apartment. “No I'm just gonna head home. That kinda wore me out.” She paused for a moment. “I mean yeah if I HAD to answer, he’s cute. In a scruffy kind of way.” Another pause. “Look I’m not just into every person I meet. I may be bi but I have standards. Alright I’m almost home.” She still had a few blocks left, she just didn’t want to put up with any more grilling. Her mind scrolled through possibilities of the upcoming weeks. She would be spending so many hours alone with Bucky. Her body shivered when she thought back to the two of them dueting. Their two sounds filled the room, intertwining with each other.

Suddenly her thoughts were interrupted with thoughts of Steve. She knew there had to be more to the story, yet she still felt hurt. What could have happened to make someone who carved wood that gently and caringly shut off like that? She wanted to be mad but she couldn’t get herself to do so. Closing her eyes, she recalled playing for him. He was staring so intently, really listening. She felt seen in a way she never had before. She frowned. “No. I don’t have to put up with that shit. No matter how nice he was at first.” 

Before she realized it, she was home. Entering the door she remembered that her roommates were out tonight. “I’m fine being home alone,” she thought, and changed into her pajamas. She brewed herself some hot tea and sat on her couch ready to get back to that book she’d been putting off finishing. As she started to read her mind kept wandering. It had been a busy week and she had a lot to sort through. Suddenly there was a knock on her door. 

She sat up and stayed silent. If she didn’t move, hopefully they’d just go away. Another knock. Cynthia sighed. She was just getting comfortable too. As she got up to the door she realized what she was wearing. Some comfy pajama shorts and an old T-shirt she got from a high school pep rally. “Whatever” she thought. “Whoever this is came into my home. I’ll look like what I look like.” She opened the door and standing there was Steve.

“Hi Cynthia. Can we talk?”

She stood there for a moment and without being able to say why, stepped backward and let him enter. He was wearing thick framed glasses and they complemented his face well. He took off his red baseball cap and shoved it into his jacket pocket. Finally Cynthia came to her senses. “Wait. How do you even know where I live?”

Steve walked to the couch she was reading and sat down, laying his hands on his knees. “Look after I met you I felt so bad about what happened. I needed to apologize and make things right.” He looks down at the tea and book. “Sorry if this is a bad time.”

“No it’s as good a time as any. I still don’t get how you found my apartment though.”

He sighed. “Well I remembered that you took violin lessons so I called around to find your instructor. They were nice enough to help me out. Anyway” He stood up and walked to her. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” He reached out and held her hands in his. “I was feeling bad and I lashed out.”

Cynthia backed away nervously, not able to make eye contact. Still she felt his eyes watching her the whole time. 

“Wait I almost forgot. I have something for you.” Steve walked to her front door and opened it. He reached around the frame and pulled out a violin case. It looked weightless in his hands, Cynthia thought. He carried it over to her table and opened it. She immediately recognized it as the same violin she played for him. “Can you play something for me again?”

He handed the violin over to her and it felt comfortable in her hands. She pressed her fingers on the strings as she thought on what to play. After a moment she began. She started with slow strokes, letting her fingers shake to bring out every ounce of sound from each note. Gradually the phrases picked up in speed, but never lost the emotion. Her fingers glided over the strings, pressing down with only as much pressure as necessary. As the final note rang out she breathed a large sigh. She felt all the emotions fall out of her body.

As she finished she saw his face had a smile without any pretenses. It is genuine and caused by her. He steps toward her. “Here, hold the violin as if you were to play again.” He moved to her. “Focus on your breath. Breath in and out with each phrase. It’ll bring more attention to the peaks and keep the listener engaged. Try it.” She played again focusing on her breath. It was awkward at first but by the end she heard the change. As she played he slowly walked behind her. Once finished he gently placed his arms over hers as if the two of them were playing as one. “Very good. Now try to lean into each stroke. The bow is an extension of your arm. Feel the way I do it.” He grabbed her hands in his and played through her. She felt the force of his arms on the bow yet also his restraint to control any unnecessary effort. Cynthia couldn’t place why but she felt comfortable here. She turned her head backward and her eyes met his. They both paused. Cynthia stood there in her pajamas, feeling overwhelmingly that Steve was about to kiss her. She didn’t know how she’d react if he did. 

After a moment he stepped away from her. “Look I’m sorry for my actions the other day, but I’d love for you to apprentice under me. I promise that kind of outburst won’t happen again.” Cynthia stared at him for a moment, unable to speak. He walked to the door, leaving the violin in her hands. “Just think about it. I’ll be waiting.” He smiles as he walks out leaving Cynthia alone.


End file.
